


eye of the storm

by songofthe52hertzwhale



Category: Dalton Academy Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-10 22:26:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20142985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songofthe52hertzwhale/pseuds/songofthe52hertzwhale
Summary: Logan's never quite understood Julian's obsession with the rain. But Julian's not here to enjoy it, and someone should.





	eye of the storm

Logan can’t sleep.

He reaches for his phone, for the tenth time at least. The glow of the screen illuminates his room when he moves it, and he stares into the familiar wallpaper -- a photo, taken by Michelle last summer, the three of them grinning at the camera with wide smiles and sunkissed cheeks. Logan stares long enough the screen dims once more, and he presses his finger against the screen until the smiles fill it once more. He’s in the middle, each arm thrown around one of his friends. But it’s not his own grin he’s looking at.

It’s a real smile. Logan  _ knows _ it must be. He remembers that day, remembers how brightly Julian laughed and his happy sigh as they all watched the sunset together. Julian’s real smile is so much different than the fake ones he gives to photographers, anyway -- large enough that his dimples are out full force, that his eyes go just a little bit squinty. He’s leaning against Logan’s side in the picture, and if he concentrates  _ very _ hard, he can almost feel the weight against his shoulder.

Logan’s not sure he’ll ever see that smile again. 

He hopes that wherever Julian is, he’s smiling again.

He stares at the photograph, illuminates the screen over and over until the light hurts his eyes and the smile hurts his heart. He unlocks his phone, finally, opens up his messages and sighs.

Still no reply. It’s not like he expects one, after all this time. There’s a series of unseen texts, dozens of messages he’s sent over the past weeks. 

Julian hasn’t responded to a single one.

Logan sighs, drops his phone into his lap.

He can’t sleep. He’s struggled with it, ever since that night. Half the time he wakes from nightmares, the other half has him tossing and turning until morning. When he closes his eyes he sees fire, smells smoke, hears the dull  _ thud _ of a body falling…

He jumps as a loud noise interrupts his thoughts, barely holds back a surprised shout. His face turns to the window just as the sky lights up for a moment, as another crack of thunder sounds. Rain falls, suddenly, fat droplets striking the glass of his window. 

Logan can’t remember the last time it rained.

For a moment, he just stares. He sits half-upright in bed, his gaze fixed at the storm outside. Something about the rain seems to be pulling him in,  _ calling _ him.

Before he can think too hard about it, he’s shoving his bare feet into sneakers, grabbing a hoodie from the floor. He doesn’t bother changing out of his pajama pants, just slips out of his room and quietly makes his way down the stairs. They creak beneath him, but Logan can’t bring himself to care about the noise.

The rain is cold, where it hits his skin. Cold and so fast and hard it’s almost painful, but Logan just steps further out into the downpour. His arms stretch out before him, palm-up, raindrops falling into his hands. 

_ What would Julian do, if he were here _ ?

It feels so foolish. So overwhelmingly childish. Logan knows he’ll look ridiculous, but it isn’t like there’s anybody watching him.

He spins, in a slow circle, tilts his chin upward and lets the rain fall on his face. He’s not quite as graceful as Julian, stumbles a bit in the wet grass. But he steadies himself, squeezes his eyes shut and pictures Julian on the lawn with him. He can see the other boy spinning wildly, can hear his laughter as he dances in the rain.

Before too long, there’s a smile on Logan’s face, a sharp laugh bursting from his lips. He can’t explain this thing he’s feeling right now, how  _ freeing _ all of this is. He’d never understood why Julian loved this so much, but right now he feels like he’s  _ close _ .

He can’t spin forever, though, and Logan eventually falls down to the grass, lays flat on his back and lets the rain drench his skin. His clothes are soaked through, and his hair sticks to his forehead, but for once he feels something other than  _ pain _ and  _ anger _ and  _ regret _ . 

He isn’t sure how long he spends out there. By the time the rain eases, he’s laying in mud more than grass, and even his shoes feel full of water. He opens his eyes, looks up at the stars just beginning to peek through the cloud cover. 

His phone buzzes.

He hadn’t realized he’d grabbed it, had shoved it in the front pocket of his hoodie as he made his way outside. It’s still working fine, despite the dampness, and Logan glances at the screen. It’s nothing important, just a notification from one of his apps, but his eyes are once again drawn to his wallpaper. 

It’s stupid. Futile. He won’t answer.

Still, Logan dials the familiar number, holds the phone to his ear and waits.

It rings.

And rings.

And rings again.

The fourth ring stop part way through, and there’s an odd, staticky noise across the line. The unmistakable sound of  _ breathing _ , next, and Logan’s heart stops.

“Jules?” He says, softly, his voice unsteady, “Jules, are you really there?”

“...hi, Logan.”


End file.
